BE MINE
by OddKitty
Summary: UPDATED 19.12.07! Companion Piece: FOR ALWAYS. Veela!Draco parody .sort of. You just know life is having a good old laugh at your expense when you realise that the person you’re supposed to get off with is your one and only schoolyard nemesis.
1. BE MINE

_**A/N:**__ Ok, here's the deal. I read a Veela!Draco story that made me cringe, it…I just didn't like any part of it AT ALL, so as a kind of revenge, I was like, I know, I'll stay up to 20 past 5 in the morning writing my own. It was SUPPOSED to be a parody, which I think you can tell from the first paragraph, but then I just started enjoying the writing process. Un-betaed and written on no sleep so let me know of any errors you find. Crit entirely welcome. CIAO, darlings!_

* * *

**BE MINE**

* * *

So, hey, I woke up on the day of my 16th, and wouldn't you know it? I've suddenly become a Veela! Wooooh! Lucy, you gotta lotta esplainin' to do! Wow, that's a great show…I know I shouldn't like it, let alone know about it, but poor Lucius is in jail so what's he going to do about it? Mother's never around to even notice what I'm doing, which means that there's no worry on _that_front, either. I almost feel sorry for me – indifferent mother, felon father, but then all I have to do is think about the large inheritance waiting for me and how sinfully, filthy rich I'll be when they finally bite the proverbial wand, as they say, and pass the wealth on.

I'm almost positive that it comes from _her_ side of the family. Those Blacks, they're supposed to have blood bluer than Slytherin himself, yet they produce a child of such fair complexion as Narcissa when every other child is dark haired? It's questionable. Then again, dear old Daddykins is pretty pale also, so maybe there's something going on there too. It's the worst kept secret that Malfoy's have always kept mistresses (except for Lucius, mother would never allow it. I have a high suspicion that that leather gimp suit I stumbled acrossa few years ago has never been worn by my mother. My father though…). It wouldn't surprise me if a little bit of artistic licence was taken with our Family tree.

Our family doctor tried to explain it to me. It seems he's managed to sneak in some muggle "science" magazines into his topical reading and keeps spouting phrases such as "dominant genes", "recessive traits" and "hybrid characteristics". Of course it made no sense to me, but from what I can gather, it's sort of like getting a purebred French poodle, mating it with a husky and getting a curly husky, then taking that same curly husky, and another purebred French poodle and mating _that_ and getting a litter of pups with one little purebred sitting among the Huskoodles and so on and so forth until you come to the point where they're mostly Poodle again except in every few generations you get Husky features cropping up.

He says that judging by the severity of my "condition" – and you could hear him practically inverting the word with quotation marks when he said it. I'm surprised he didn't actually mime it also, the arrogant twat. Ah…anyway, as _I _was saying, the severity of my "condition" points to both sides having a recent ancestor who dabbled in "bestiality". Like I said, I'm inclined to think that it's mainly the Black's side, the bunch of crazies that they are. But I'm also tempted to believe that the Malfoy's have been serial offenders over the generations. We do seem to attract many dangerous creatures to us. It must be because we're so powerful and sexy.

It seems I've developed the ability to ensnare unsuspecting members of the er, _interested_ sex through several different methods, including song (at least if I wasn't tone deaf), movement (but I hate dancing) and pheromones. Not only that, my outward appearance has taken a sudden, fortuitous turn. I've grown about a foot over night, which, ha ha, puts me taller than that prat Potter. My hair did this crazy "I'm going to be long, silky and moonbeam white, now" thing, so I've had to get the house-elves to braid my hair away from my face.

Mother saw me before I could get to a pair of scissors and has forbidden me to cut it. I swear, I thought she was going to weave ribbons and flowers into it the moment she caught sight of it. Sigh…Mothers…The moment I'm free of this house it's getting the chop…it's so fine that it keeps pulling free and becoming wispy and just plain _annoying_. It's actually down to just below my shoulder blades.

Oh, and my eyes have changed colour. They're so strange now. For instance? Yesterday I spent about three hours entranced by _myself_ looking in the mirror. They're almost silver now and Mother told me that they vary in colour with my moods. I haven't seen that myself but I wish I could because I can't change them to a thought, which I find rather vexing.

I think my skin's different now too. It tends to glow a bit in the moon light, just like my hair. Apparently it will be worse if I'm ever in a really good mood. I can just imagine the insults now…

I expect Mr Shiny to be one of the top names, probably outnumbered only by Tinker bell or something like that. I'm actually a bit worried about that. I have yet to return to Hogwarts, that's not for another few weeks, but I'm not even in control of myself half the time. I can't go to parties anymore because I cause a disturbance wherever I go. It's not like it's my fault! I can't help it if I'm dead sexy! It's not as if there's a switch inside me with a sign next to it saying "flick to turn off Veela powers now". Oh my, _Veela powers!_ I sound like a super hero, when I put it that way...That would be so, amazing!

Sigh…I'd prefer the ability to fly to this any day, though.

Oh goody! It's the family doctor again and he's brought me a surprise! More books! Joy… Kill me now.

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Well, I thought life couldn't get any worse, but apparently I must have been someone really awful in a past life because…and if I'm reading the books right and if the dreams aren't just some drug induced psyche out and the sudden empty feeling inside that no amount of chocolate éclairs will drive out are to be believed, then, well…bugger it…I have a mate. I don't know who it is and I don't know why _this_ particular abnormality had to get passed down to _me_ when it could have bothered someone else.

Apparently Veela's mate for life, which I think is just stupid. Think about it. These beasts are geared to act like sirens, so that they can prey on foolish human males, basically have lots and lots of sex with them until they've been impregnated before they kill the unsuspecting, not to mention exhausted, victim. Or…maybe I'm thinking of Praying Mantis's…Oh…yeah. But still! I remember the Quidditch world cup. Half the auditorium tried to rush the field to get a piece of the Veela action!

But really, why couldn't I have gotten the wings? That would have been so impressive. I could have any witch - or wizard, for that matter - that I wanted if I had a pair of wings…maybe it's just a matter of time before I sprout them…I really want wings, because then I really _could_ fly and I could pretend to be a super hero, or maybe a super anti-hero. One of the cool ones who are disinterested in saving the world but incidentally end up saving the world, saving the girl and getting paid in gratitude sex. With twins. Oh, and lots of money too. Yeah, I want wings…

Er…that's right the whole MATE issue. It kind of stinks because it could be anyone, any age, any sex, any_where_ in this world. Apparently I'm going to be more attune to someone of equal or greater magical power than me, but there's absolutely no guarantee that they'll _want_ to be mated to me, but that's a small concern, because after all, I'm Draco Malfoy! Who _wouldn't_ want to be with me, I ask you? But I might not wantthem. I mean, I'll want them, but my feelings won't really have a say in the matter. Just some Veela instinct will hop in and say, "This is your true love, so suck it up!"

Apparently, there are side benefits to having a mate. Like my power will increase by twice what our combined magic would be, which, seeing as I'm so awesome would still be very impressive even if the other person were a total dud. But then there's the downside of shared empathy forming if you actually bond with them.

And by bond, I mean _bond. _Yes, that's right – SEX. Bugger me! What if it's someone like Dumbledore or…or…Snape?! Actually…hm…no, that would still be so very wrong and bad!

I suppose all I can hope for is that the person I'm "destined" - ahem, excuse me while I gag – to be with isn't totally reprehensible looking and mildly interesting. A trophy wife wouldn't be bad…vapid, boring but every bit the proper upper class wife, Father would be most proud.

…

Wait a moment…I can't believe this! I'm not going to be able to hurt them?! I'll DIE if they DIE?! I'll DIE if they REFUSE ME?! No no no no no! I did NOT sign up for this. Just. NO. What a stupid species! Seriously! How is it even possible? I mean, just because I have the instinct to find my mate, doesn't mean that it's shared or that it's even likely that I'll be able to find them in such an over-populated world! Where's the guarantee that such a mate even exists? That I'm just not going to pine away and die because I NEVER find my mate?!

Oh…Oh! Oh…it's…I guess it is ok. It says here that Veela have occasionally found a mate from a different species/creature and in those instances, their "perfect mate" will know on a chemical level…they'll experience some weird symptoms, twin to what I've been getting, apparently. I suppose that's alright…if the person accepts me. But that still leaves the issue of finding them before I waste away, if that'll even happen to me. I mean, it's not like I'm a full-blood, not like I can turn into that horrible ugly screeching bird thing….Though my canine teeth are more, fangs then before. Ha ha, I could dress as a vampire for the Halloween ball, this year!

It's just…I was supposed to simply grow up, find a nice Slytherin wife, join the Dark Lord and make lots of little Malfoys. Oh holy crap! _Reproduction…reproduction, reproduction…._Oh thank god! I was worried there a moment…I had this sudden horrifying thought that I might be so mutated that I'll be able to bear children, but it looks as though I'm safe. Anyway, who ever heard of a man giving birth? Ridiculous! And don't you dare mention seahorses, they hardly count!

You know, I really wish my parents had asked me about this before they went and "found each other". Given a choice, I'd rather be a Longbottom than a dumb Veela hybrid freak any day. Oh bugger this for a laugh, I'm going to sleep!

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

So….I had another dream last night. Really, a very bad idea, sleeping. I think I'm going to try just not sleep for a while.

It's like in this dream, it's not so much a person, but a presence; an impression of a fragment of a suggestion of a person beside me. I can smell them, the smell surrounds me and it's like wood polish, hot summer afternoons and high chilling winds. It's hard to describe, but it's a fresh, alive smell and every morning I wake up with the hint of a ghost of a smell on my clothes and it's slowly driving me insane.

If feel better if I have those dreams, as though somehow I'm getting closer and closer to my intended, but it's maddeningly frustrating in the same breath because I still can't make out who it is. And then when I wake up and the smell begins to fade it makes the pain in my chest so much worse.

I really can't think about that now, the house-elves have started packing my things. Tomorrow it's back off to Hogwarts for another year of torture.

Actually, I'm kind of looking forward to it. Mainly because I have more reason than ever to show off. Potter's going to be so jealous, ha ha, and so short! Stupid git. He thinks he's so special because of that dumb scar. And what? He's never heard of a brush? It always looks as if he's just rolled out of bed. And the clothes? No fashion sense, and those dumb glasses, they're so ugly. They really don't do him any justice…not that he's attractive or anything, it's just a shame, since he's got green eyes. I love green eyes, not Potter's though, but I just find eyes like that really captivating. But Potter's too much of a git. It's such a joke. Everyone treats him like royalty, yet _I'm_ closer to being royalty than he is, and I barely ever get any attention. He's unbelievable! I can still remember that time on the train in first year when he refused to be my friend…You know…I think he's the only person ever to say no to me. Of course, teachers and my parents say not to me all the time, but that's different, that's adults not knowing any better. Stupid, manky, git. I'll show him. Mother's taking me clothes shopping this afternoon since I've outgrown _everything_ I own.

Ha ha, I love that. A foot! In one night! I'm the awesome.

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Oh yeah, feel the adulation! Welcome to platform nine and three quarters where it's party time all the time and all the lads and ladies simply just can't get enough of me! Ok, picture this, the steam billows from the train and I dramatically appear, stepping through it as though I've appeared from the mist. My (stupidly long) hair swirling behind me in the air swells caused by the wheezing of the train fans out and catches the sunlight that falls in trapped beams from the sky-lights from above.

I stop in one of those sunbeams and I'm dazzling, glowing, radiant like my skin is frosted glass and I'm a steady flame, oh yeah! Mother had spared no expense on clothing and I look –there's no other way to describe me – delicious. I'm like a lemonade ice on a hot summer day. I'm so tasty I'd even try and eat myself if I saw me.

I'm wearing an eggshell white, Egyptian cotton, button up shirt with long sleeves, the cuffs obscuring my wrists from view and sitting comfortably against the back of my hands. I've worn the collar wide with the first two buttons undone exposing the skin of my chest, which makes the shirt look like darker, fresh made cream. There is a tie at the back which pulls the folds of the shirt close to my waist before it flares out towards the bottom, the tail of the material at a height with my mid upper thigh at the longest drape of fabric.

Over the shirt I'm wearing a green and silver embroidered waistcoat that accentuates the tapering lines of my sexy, lightly muscled torso. The pants I'm wearing are made from deep, earthy brown suede that flare slightly over my dragon hide boots and fit comfortably, but hide nothing. Along the bottom cuffs intricate patterns are picked out in a thread a shade or two darker than the material that only shows up as the light catches the thread. The same patterns are worked into the right back pocket and I look hot. I'm like some godly crossover between an nineteenth century English gentlemen and a gunslinger from the Wild West.

And everyone and I mean _everyone_ can't keep their eyes off me! Even that mudblood Granger is staring and her little, or rather big and lanky Weasel has his mouth gaping open, probably in some attempt to catch flies for supper or something. You never can tell with that git.

I don't see Potter yet, maybe the gods have heard my prayers and he's been arrested for being an annoying prat! Oh, if only that were true!

All the ickle firsties are looking at me in awe; I guess I can't blame them for wanting to bask in my magnificent presence. Crabbe and Goyle have stalked over to me and set up station a few steps behind where I am, a silent foreboding force that keeps my worshippers a secure distance from me. It's funny…they've not noticed anything different about me. Probably too stupid to be impressed by my glory. I know that sounds mean, but they are not particularly gifted in the brains department but their kind are always necessary for people of my calibre, and they are such sweet boys, really. Mother didn't come see me off, she hasn't ever, too busy with her women's book club or whatever fad she's picked up this time. I suppose I should feel lonely or unloved, but it's nothing more than a small twinge in my chest and I smile radiantly to cover it up.

Without me having to tell them, my two lovely mountainous goons take my luggage aboard and I know that they'll secure our usual carriage. There's really nothing left for me to do. I've made my entrance, wowed the crowd…I know I've forgotten something…Ah crap! The train just hissed at me and it whipped my hair so fast that it came loose from the tie! Damn it, that was my favourite ribbon!

"Um, I believe this is yours," someone mutters behind me. Wow, husky, voice like dark chocolate. A tanned forearm enters my field of vision, the black ribbon that had my hair tied back earlier gently resting in the palm of a work-roughened hand.

I turn towards to voice…oh my…oh my…I can feel my mouth go dry and all of a sudden my hearts beating against my chest like I've just run a marathon! Not that Malfoy's run, we have servants who do that for us but…the smell, it's back and oh, life is just too cruel. _I HATE my life!_

It's Potter, he's got this prattish, imp half-grin on his face and his hair's just as messy – if not more so than normal and he's TALLER THAN ME, STILL! It's only an inch, but I can tell! I can tell and it's not fair! I grew a bloody _foot_ and he still manages to top me. I mean, no! Not like that! I'm the bloody top! He's just…so _infuriating_! And tall! AND he's not drooling over my very existence! I mean, what an OUTRAGE! I'm bloody sex on legs! _Everyone_ loves me, _everyone_ wants me and he should be WORSHIPPING me! And he smells sooo good…no! Stupid smelly scar-head who's unaffected by my Veela wiles, this is just. Not. Happening!

I can feel my face heat up and a blush and a shy smile tug at my lips. _What happened to Draco Malfoy, one bona fide sex god, huh?!_ I'm blushing like a bloody virgin and I'm being all timid! There's a little voice inside me screaming to scowl, to come up with some brilliant witticism, a barb, insult, ANYTHING and all I'm doing is smiling coyly at the prat!

I slowly draw the black silk ribbon from his grip with a nod and he smiles warmly at me before returning his hands to the pockets of his worn out jeans and walks off. _Just like that! _That's it. No, "oh, hey Malfoy, sex-god, have a good summer? And if you're not too busy, fancy a quick shag in the loo?"

I'm left standing open mouthed on the platform staring after the git. Mind you I get a nice good look at tight arse as he steps onto the train and watch as the muscles in his arm tense as he pulls himself up by the hand rail. He turns as he reaches the top step to regard me, head tilted to the side like I'm some curious specimen in a museum, his eyes twinkling brightly behind his glasses.

The train whistles insistently, letting the latecomers know to get onboard before it leaves the station without them, it startles me from my dazed staring at the dark haired man of my dreams

"Coming?" He asks with a slight quirk of his head.

Yeah, yeah, I'm coming…in my pants…I groan, I can't help it, he just _licked his lips…nnngh!_

You know, I've always had a sneaking suspicion that the gods having been getting their shits and giggles from making my life one long misery and stupid situation after the next. I mean, I get the picture. I'm a poor little rich boy with pseudo-insane parents, a godfather complex, a crazy-ass future Master waiting off in the wings, and oh, by the way, I'm also a Veela (happy bloody 16th birthday to _me) _and if that isn't enough, I have to bloody fall for someone I've spent the majority of my schooling career taking the piss out of and generally being as obnoxious as hell to.

You just know life is having a good old laugh at your expense when you realise that the person you're supposed to get off with is your one and only schoolyard nemesis.

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Ok, my life is over. Period. I'm in my dorm room now; the train ride to Hogwarts was suspiciously uneventful. I don't think that I could have handled anymore then the abject humiliation I experienced on the platform before, so I suppose it's a small blessing. But the feast! Can you believe? I caused a riot. I really didn't mean to, but all the little first years tried to slip on to the Slytherin table and all the other students were trying to crowd me, some Ravenclaw's were pretending to be Slytherin's and the Hufflepuff's were mooning from afar and the Gryffindork's,_luckily_ were too far away but still curiously turning to stare in my general direction, nosy twats.

I got pulled up by Severus who informed that that I had to go see the headmaster and when I got there the headmaster told me that I had to move out of my dorm. I'm getting shipped off to the Lesser Tower which branches off a corridor on the third floor. It used to be a long gone teacher's suite, but it's been empty for a couple decades. The house-elves have already started clearing it out and airing it, ready for me to move in by tomorrow after first class. Oh joy! I'm being deprived of my house but I suppose there's really no great loss. Most of them are a pack of tossers, though Blaise is alright and Nott seems ok, but since the suite contains a private bathroom and a study, I really shouldn't complain.

It feels odd. I hadn't even settled in and already I'm moving on from my room. I guess I should be grateful. Crabbe and Goyle sound like an avalanche when they get in the full swing of snoring and there's always a bit of a funky smell to a room that's shared by five boys.

…

Harry smiled at me again… I walked past their table on the way to Dumbledore's office and I just _happened_ to look in his general area and he smiled at me, knowingly, and I tripped over my own shoe and managed to make an arse of myself. I imagine everyone would have laughed if they hadn't been so hypnotised by my very presence. Only he laughed and he quickly stifled it. I was even going to curse him, but I ended up just _blushing_ again as if that's all I know how to do. Yes, I know, let's show Potter who's boss by blushing at him! Oh look, he's scared now! Really showed him that time, dumbfuck.

Which brings me back to the meeting with Dumbledore. The stupid old fool was _twinkling _at me knowingly. Let me know he wasn't going to chuck me out of school but cautioned me that I'd have to learn to control myself more. He said he was going to bring in a tutor who's very familiar with…similar…manifestations. I got the sense that it was someone who's _not_ actually a Veela, but is a bit of an expert and I'm left thinking, who the hell can be an expert on something they've not actually experienced for themselves? No amount of book learning can teach you where the bloody switch is if you can't feel it for yourself! And it's not like I got to slowly learn like other half/quarter/one-eighth Veela's do. No, I had to have a bloody spasm and sudden metamorphosis with no preparation or build up.

At any rate, I have to quickly learn control or he's pulling me from regular classes and making me take private tutoring until I'm stable. That's fine with me. He also asked if I knew, "who my mate was?" and I just gave him a quizzical look like he'd lost the plot. I think he saw through me though, he kind of just shook his head and shooed me from his study.

So here I am now, painfully aware that Blaise hasn't stopped staring at me since he entered the room and Crabbe and Goyle obliviously readying for bed.

Sigh.

I should have just stayed in bed…I should have never got on the bloody train. I should be the happiest guy on earth. Why is my luck so bloody rotten?

Driver, let me off at the next stop, I want to get off! ...NOT THAT WAY, YOU PERVS!

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Oh surprise, surprise, I'm in detention! With Potter! In Potions! Oh joy. Ok, so it's now Friday and I don't know why, but all of a sudden I decided it would be a great idea to verbally attack the She-Weasel who was walking by with the golden trio in the great hall at lunch. But she was hanging off _my Harry's arm!_ So I may have called her a few unsavoury names and then stupid Potter defended her, the dirty bitch and so, um, I attacked him. I just shrieked and leapt at him, forgoing the wand for brute force and blind anger, making a right spectacle of myself. Of course, him being the tough, manly, strong…handsome, capable…hot-ARGH! PRAT that he is, he managed to grab hold of my wrists and defused my attacks. Snape caught us at it and now we're in the potions lab cleaning cauldrons. Well, he's sitting, cleaning cauldrons and I'm watching the muscles roll and flex beneath his robes.

His hair's grown out, which is why it looks a lot wilder than normal. It's just below his shoulders now and it looks more like just-been-shagged than just-rolled-out-of-bed. And I'm itching to play with it, just to run my fingers through it, tangle in it. I want to grab a fistful and yank his head back and claim his mouth and take him right now on the potions lab floor.

Oh my god, my hands outstretched even as I think!

"_What, _Malfoy?" Potter asks in an angry voice, and it's like he's shoved a hot poker through me chest with the tone. I snatch my hand back before it even brushes the tips of his hair and cradle it in my other arm. I whimper and he turns to me and his face softens from his angry scowl. My lower lip trembles slightly, I swear! I'm not putting it on, ok…maybe a little, and it's working. I smile timidly at him and creep slightly closer to him. And aha! Success, he's looking at me like the gormless fools at the station had.

"Harry…" I keen in a pouty voice, taking another hesitant step toward him. He nods dumbly and continues to stare. "Harry…have you…noticed anything…different about me?"

"Uh…um, you, you got taller…" he stutters. I'm merely a foot from him and I lower myself to sit before him, my robes billowing out and spilling around me.

"Hm….what else?" I urge, timidly placing my hands upon his knee. Oh man, what a kick! He's flushing and, oh, I just want to taste every inch of him. He's in his school shirt and pants, but his shirts untucked and buttoned down, his tie is loose and hanging askew. I just want to grab that tie in my teeth and drag him down against me. The cauldron slips from his grip making a hollow bell-like ringing as it impacts with the flagstones.

"Hair…ngh…longer," his words little more than a breath. I let my right hand drift to his inner thigh, still close to his knee and I rest my chin on my other hand, my fingers drawing lazy circles over the cloth covered leg.

"yes?"

"so…uunnnh..so pre-, want to...and…eyes."

"What about my eyes?" I ask. Slowly I rise onto my knees, my face mere inches from his. He's breathing hard and the air in here feels so hot. I'm just as enraptured with his beautiful dark features as I know he is with me. He licks his lips and I can feel his hot breath ghost across my face as I move closer to him. The atmosphere is so palpable in here, it's stifling and tense and so_deliciously_ heady that it almost smells like sex. He's staring at me with such a hunger through slightly glazed emerald orbs and I open my eyes wider, inviting him further in.

Suddenly he catches my face between his hands and it's like a pulse of heat runs through my body; I can't contain the moan that urges through my lips and my eyes shudder closed for a brief moment. I cover his hands with my own and I let my fingers run teasingly over the light dusting of fine hair on his forearms.

"You eyes," he murmurs, and he seems more composed, lucid, but he's staring so hard I think he's going to burn me with the intensity. "For the first time…I can see you in them…."

A quick intake of breath and I flinch. I don't know! I don't know what I'm doing! Am I stupid? This is Potter for heaven's sake! This is my schoolyard nemesis! My sworn enemy! Everything I've been raised to believe as truth, everything my family stands for…our ideals, just everything and he is the embodiment of all that opposes it! He's the enemy of my father's master and there's nothing good that can come of this!

If I let him be my mate then I stand to lose my entire universe. If I let this happen I'm basically throwing away any neutrality I might have tried to keep, I'd be committed, I'd follow him anywhere; to death and beyond. I c-can't! I can't just throw everything away like that! I have to pull back. Merlin's beard, what…I…Oh…oooh…that's nice…mhmm…who'd have thought Potter would be a good kisser…

I sigh and his tongue slips in further and oh, yeah, screw the world…just…let me enjoy this for a second. No! Don't pull away! He doesn't retreat very far; he rests his forehead against mine and shuts his eyes. A broken fragment of laughter escapes him and it has a frightening edge of hysteria to it.

"You're Veela…aren't you?" he whispers. I nod gently, breathing in his scent deeply, memorising every nuance and flavour. It's not just wood polish and summer afternoons and high chill winds. He has a soft, clean, fresh soap smell to him and his hair, which is tickling my face, smells of apples. My hands abandon his wrists and trail up his neck to bury into that thick unruly mop of hair and it's so soft, like down, wispy and not at all like I thought it would be. I could sit here running my fingers through his hair all night if I could.

He laughs shortly again and he softly plants a chaste kiss on my lips. He tries to pull back but I tug on his hair to keep him in place and chase after his retreating mouth, deepening the kiss, making it hotter and filling it with every emotion I've got.

It takes a while but this time, I pull back so I can study his face. There's something broken to him, his expression is…it's killing me, so melancholy, like he's been read his death sentence, and there's a sick curling of his lips, a mockery of a smile, which seems to sting even more. I lower a hand to caress his cheek and he leans into the touch, his smile gaining some warmth.

"Is that ok?" I whisper into his neck as I lean forward, burying my head in his shoulder. I'm trapped between his legs; our bodies are pressed flush to each other and Harry's arms slide around me to pull me closer.

"No…yes…I don't know…" he gives that little broken laugh again and it shakes me all the way to the core of my soul. "I had dreams about you…but…I didn't know it was you. All summer. I kept having this dream, but it wasn't really a dream…It was like an impression, like I could sense someone touching me, next to me, I could make anything out, but I could smell ice melt and cinnamon and melon. It nearly drove me insane, oh god you smell good."

"Ahem."

OH WAY TO GO, SEVERUS! There I am having a nice tender moment with Harry and you have to bloody disturb me with your presence! He is so off my Christmas list this year. Harry was so startled by Snape's entrance he practically fell from the chair. And now he's retreated to the other side of the room.

I glare at my godfather angrily, but he isn't impressed by my scary Veela ways, he just looks resigned. He tiredly runs a hand over his face and glares at the both of us. I can feel Harry buzzing with guilt and embarrassment…but not shame…hey…I can feel him! And- huh! He felt that too, wow….it's not much, just a little sense, but it's there. Oh god, I'm smiling at him like an idiot and SEVERUS is giving me that bloody look.

He sighs wearily and I turn to face him. "I'll go inform the headmaster. You two, back to your dorm. Congratulations, Draco, you have now successfully exceeded all my expectations…I didn't think you'd ever be able to make my life more difficult than you already have but you've proved that the bounds to which you're set yourself to ruin my life is endless.

"Potter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Hurt my godson and I will be forced to kill you…if he doesn't first. Your things will be moved into the lesser tower shortly."

"Sir?" Harry asked, buzzing with confusion. I laugh delightedly and run over to him, grabbing his hand.

"Sleepover time!" I announce with a flourish of my hand. He silently mouths my words back to me and realisation dawns and his eyebrows disappear into his thick fringe. He looks to Snape in astonishment, clearly questioning the sanity of the man who basically just gave his blessing for him to have wild monkey sex with his grandson before shrugging an letting me drag him down the halls, past a very resigned professor.

We're halfway to my- our rooms when he suddenly speaks up. "You know we're going to have to talk about this," he says blithely.

"I know."

"I mean, until, well, twenty minutes ago, we were still enemies…"

"Yeah."

"And now we're, what? Basically married?!"

"That's about right!" I reply cheerfully.

"Oh god…I don't think I can do this!" he cries and I can feel the edge of panic. We're at my- our door now and I turn to face him, my back to the door.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Be mine?"

It's so cute! He's blushing! I love the way it flushes his cheeks and neck and there's that little smile and it's not the sad broken one from before. I can feel a giggle trying to crawl up from my stomach and I have to resist the urge to tickle him or poke him or tease…I don't know how long I'll last, he's so fun to tease and insult, after all. I love his reactions, they're so spectacular. It was always half the reason I ever picked on him in the first place.

He can feel the playful undercurrents coming off me in waves and his little smile turns into a smirk that gives me many naughty thoughts and leans in, murmuring in that husky dark chocolate tone I remember vividly from the train.

"For now," he says, "If you're very, very good." Then he blasts me with that famous stunning, attention drawing smile that lights up the darkened corridor and makes my chest burn. I grab him by his tie, and yank him to me wrapping my arms around his waist.

"But I don't want to play nice," I reply nuzzling at his neck. A shudder runs through his body as my hand wanders and creeps up underneath his shirt to ghost over a nipple and he nearly collapses against me.

"O-oh! I uh, think I can handle that" he replies in a strangled voice. I can't help it; I laugh full-throated before untangling myself from Harry's arms and rushing into the room.

I know this is stupid, and we really _should_ talk before we go ahead but…oh he's kissing me again…mmm….oh sod it!

He throws me on the bed carelessly and lowers himself down for a passionate kiss that leaves us both breathless. We stare at each other and in the silence of the evening and in the secluded safety of the Lesser Tower suite the world seems to pause, there's an echo, that's not really an echo. It's a suggestion of a whisper of a thought, but we can hear it as it bounds between us. The intensity is too much and we retreat back into the sensation of touch to block out thought, but it's still echoing, and I can still feel it in the way Harry feels so right where he is and how I love feeling his wait on me.

…_.Be mine..?_

…_For Always…_

* * *

_A/N: Whaddya think? I was considering writing a companion piece from Harry's perspective, or maybe a sequel? Interested?_


	2. FOR ALWAYS

_A/N: Ok, this is the...companion piece to _BE MINE_. Now the original was intended as a parody, but this one...it's not. Quite simply, since I chose to write it from Harry's point of view, the entire tone of the story changed. There's still a light element to it, but I put a lot more thought and time into this part than I did the first. _

_ It's actually not what I intended to write, but I think it's still quite good. WARNING! The language is much more explicit and there's a bit of a lemony passage towards the end, so if you're reading this when you shouldn't be (it's rated M for a reason) then you've been forewarned._

_ Tell me what you guys think. Anyway, Enjoy!_

* * *

**FOR ALWAYS**

* * *

You know…I really just wish that I'd never lived past my first birthday some days…Like today for instance.

I woke up feeling a little fuzzy, but warm and for once well-rested; not even a single dream or vision to interrupt my sleep and I knew it was early. You know how you can just tell by the quality of the silence in a room how early it is? I didn't even bother opening my eyes, just snuggled back into the warm quilt that I was cocooned in…and entangling more firmly with the body that was wrapped around mine.

And that's when my day went from being a good morning to a living nightmare. It took me _ages _to figure it out, and it wasn't til the person beside me shifted, curling up against my chest, their erection rubbing against my thigh that it hit. Yeah, I woke up naked in someone else's bed. In a _Slytherin_ bed! I checked; it's kind of hard keeping your eyes shut when you've got someone's…erm…_privates_ pressing against your leg. So there I was, firmly wrapped in a person and in Slytherin green sheets for that matter and not the foggiest idea how I got there.

It sounds stupid I know, but I'm not a morning person and not all that alert besides - and let's face it - just a little bit slow on the uptake after waking. Hermione seems to think that my non-ability to wake up in the mornings is cute. I'm a boy! I'm not supposed to be cute!

And anyway, I've never really been one to handle surprises very well and I ended up shrieking like a girl, thrashing violently to escape the tangle of sheets and tumbling from the bed onto very hard, very_cold _flagstone tiles. Oh, and I landed on a shoe too, which has left me a nice big bruise to remember it by.

It left me lying stunned for a moment, one foot still caught in the sheets and perched on the edge of the bed, I on my back splayed for anyone to see and the cold tiles pressing into every inch of flesh that it touched. Yeah, naked, I'm still really shocked at that.

Clothes are a nice luxury, warm ones even more so and I happen to be particularly fond of a good sturdy pair of flannels waiting for me up in the Gryffindor dorms. I've never _not_ slept in something, even if it was just one of Dudley's manky old castaway tent-for-two t-shirts; I always wear something to bed. It's a security thing.

Some people have teddy bears named Rufus; Neville's got that bloody plant on his bedside table that he checks before going to sleep, Ron_did_ have Scabbers, but now he's taken to carrying this, um, knitted _thing_ that Hermione made for him for his birthday. I think it's supposed to be an owl, but it looks more like a big, brown…er, blob. I suppose I can only be thankful she's picked up a hobby. Ever since she's kind of dropped her preferred pastime of "Harry watching", which I'm relieved at. It's bad enough that every witch I meet tends to try and adopt me. I really don't need someone my age mothering me. Anyway, Dean and Seamus…well, apparently they like to cuddle up together as their night-time "thing". I have no idea when it started but first day back from holidays last year was an, erm, educational one.

Those two were real eye-openers in a way that is permanently scarred on my retinas. I guess it's not a bad thing, but they seem to think that as long as they don't do anything during class or in front of the juniors, the dorm room's okay for whatever. I swear, the next time I catch them on mine – or anyone else's – bed I will hex them til they're so sore they won't be able to even _think_ about it without cringing, the dirty buggers.

Anyway, I remember groaning in pain and desperately trying to free my foot while still lying on the floor. I remember hearing the sheets rustle followed by a loud yawn and it caught me wondering how the other person could not have woken throughout my mad (thwarted) dash for freedom. I mean, I think I may have punched them in the chest a few times before I'd managed to fall so inelegantly onto the floor.

And it was at that moment, that my day went from being a living nightmare to hell on earth. For who should leisurely stretch up, rising from the sheets like an angel awakening among a sea of green…who other than my long-time nemesis and general pain in the ass; the illustrious, the luminous, the bloody pompous, perfect-haired, arrogant, aristocratic, snide, sodding _beautiful _creature that is Draco Malfoy? Why of course…clearly, life hates me and wants to make my life that little bit more difficult because that's exactly who appeared looking all sexy and rumpled but still immaculately perfect, as though he'd spent hours in a salon getting his hair tangled like that.

That hair! It's so long and almost white, it's difficult to believe and I have a hard time not running my fingers through it possessively whenever I see him. It's so silky to the touch, it reminds me of unicorn hair, but much, much softer. Er…I'm getting off track here.

At first Malfoy began looking around the bed, bewildered as though he'd lost something, then his gaze fell on me and he blinked those incredible eyes at me and I could feel the blush extend from my toes up to my hairline. I tried covering myself, which only made him giggle in a sleep roughened voice. He raised a pale eyebrow at me quizzically, "What are you doing down there, Harry?" He'd asked.

That was it, no, "What the fuck are you doing in here, you dirty Gryffindor cur?" or "Get the hell away from me, scarhead!" he was inviting me back to bed! I knew my mouth was gaping wide, my eyes almost bugging from their sockets. In the hazy half-light of the morning, Dra- er, Malfoy's skin seemed to glow and I can remember having to snatch my hand back as it had reached out to stroke it.

I think it was at that point that I remembered _fully_ the night before. Needless to say I'm rather embarrassed at myself.

I _really_ have no clue what came over me. All I knew was that one minute I was scrubbing cauldrons in detention while Malfoy, _as usual_ did nothing, then him with his head on my knee and his hand stroking my thigh and I couldn't have said no if I'd wanted to. The moment he'd approached me…it was like walking into a foggy pink cloud…almost like the _imperius_ but nothing quite so sinister. Normally I'd resist something like that but that nagging little voice that has saved me on more than one occasion was suspiciously quiet on this evening and makes me wonder if I _didn't_ actually want to endanger myself and those around my by aligning myself to Malfoy.

Then Snape came in and I could have died of abject humiliation and I was so sure that I would be sent to the Head Master's office for a talking to, and I can tell you that I was more than just surprised at Snape's resigned attitude. Maybe it was him…maybe if he hadn't been there, I'd never have let last night go so far…not that it really went all that far. No, seriously!

Look, I'm a virgin – the 'still' is implied and especially (and maybe unfortunately) true. I've not been with a girl, let alone a guy and I'm highly doubtful that Dra- er Malfoy is such the sex-god as he claims he is. Basically it was just a lot of friendly rutting against each other, a little bit of hand, mouth and touching but no actual loss of virginity occurred. I'm not so cloistered that I don't know how guys do it (thanks Seamus, you rotten bastard) but I think…I'm not…I don't know what I'd want to be, or what Draco wants me to be that I couldn't – we couldn't! We just didn't let it get that far. Actually, I don't think either of us was capable of the thought necessary to actually, you know, _do the deed_, as it were.

Nevertheless, when I'd gathered the courage to look at Draco again, he was_leering_ at me in a rather sated fashion, eyes half-lidded and shining subtly with a light blue tone. Malfoy…a Veela…I really should have known. That day on the platform? Woah.

I'd (for once) arrived rather early, mainly because Kingsley had taken me from headquarters to the station via some tricky turns in the floo network (which I distinctly did _not_ enjoy) before running me hurriedly from a nearby rundown house to the station and straight onto the platform. Even with all the diversions and misleads that he took us on, I'd arrived almost a full hour before departure.

With very little to do I'd gone and secured a carriage for me and the gang (only to find out later that 'Mione and Ron got to go in the prefects carriage) before heading back to the station and standing off to the side in an inconspicuous corner.

It was so strange watching all the different people arrive…I'd never expected that Crabbe and Goyle actually _had_ parents, I mean…not really. Yeah, there was the whole incident last year with the Triwizard and all…but I'd never actually have thought of them having a mother. I always figured that they had kind of come into existence seemingly just to annoy the crap out of me and my friends.

Oh, and Creevey's father was there. It's scary…the whole male line seems eerily similar. He even had a matching camera slung from his neck and was happily taking photos of his two magical boys.

I can tell you that I was really happy that I'd not been spotted; I'd never have survived! Those Creevey boys are….fanatic is putting it nicely.

I watched silently, waiting for Hermione and the Weasely clan to arrive…I don't know why I didn't go over…I just wasn't ready to talk to them…more I just, I just couldn't. But then Malfoy made his grand entrance, I saw every moment of it, even before he'd stepped through the blast of steam sent up by the train. He'd stood there, so different, more vibrant than I'd ever remembered seeing him. And so alone. That's what I'll never forget. I knew his dad was in jail – hell, I was the one who basically ensured he got put there, but you'd think that he'd have someone to send him off. I mean, what about his mother? If I ever have kids, I'd want to see them off, no matter what. I guess he was used to it though. He'd just strode onto the platform, composed himself a moment before stepping through the cloud of steam and making everyone's jaw drop.

I'd had a little forewarning, having seen it coming, but when he'd smiled, even I felt weak in the knees and suddenly so _hungry_, but for something I just couldn't name. And then the differences that I'd seen came into sharp focus and I'd noticed his hair was now well below his shoulders, tied back elegantly in a loose tail at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. He was taller, that much I could make out from the distance, and I wasn't so sure (though I most certainly am now) but he looked paler, not sickly; more like fine porcelain. I couldn't see his face as he surveyed the crowd but his stance was possessive and proud, like he was proceeding over his loyal subjects or something.

If ever there were wizarding princes, no one could have convinced me that anyone but Draco could have been one of them.

He'd stood in that beam of light as if the sun was shining specifically to illuminate his presence and his skin seemed to glow. Then his hair had blown free and that black silk ribbon had swirled off, landing at my feet.

It was like fate giving me a nudge…I didn't think about it at the time, but it was very…suspicious really, like I was following some preordained pattern that I couldn't see or control.

…I don't know what made me think it…even before I'd come to Hogwarts, well before the last year had ended I'd decided that I wouldn't play anymore petty games, that, even if we couldn't ever be friends, I'd stop hating him…he just wasn't…the effort put into hating someone so irrelevant was too much, but…

When I saw him up close it was like my heart had started beating, almost for the first time. This was stronger than anything I'd ever felt. Not even how it felt pining after Cho could match it, and the smell, so reminiscent of the dreams that had been plaguing me…and I knew that I couldn't even bring myself to hate him…that maybe, actually, I_wanted_ to like him…it was, well, disconcerting.

And when I approached him? I've never known Malfoy to blush, but it made my heart race and in some small sense I could feel a thread connect us, even as I walked away toward the train.

Stupid git. I couldn't focus at all on what anyone else was saying and I kept craning my neck so I could look around the corner of the partly open door, wondering when he'd pay his routine "pick on Harry" visit. And of course the prat didn't even show up and I spent the trip to Hogwarts feeling anxious! Over Malfoy! It was unbelievable.

I only calmed down after I'd seen him at the feast and other than a couple of stares, several blushes and even a tentative smile nothing happened.

If only things had stayed that way…

So Draco began to look angry and impatient and I was just sitting on the floor, foot finally free of the blankets, I drew my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my arms. I think I nearly cried…god, I can't believe I admitted that.

I mean, how stupid can I get?!

He's a Veela! I'm not really in love; this is just some stupid trick that he's playing. I bet he's going to go down to the Slytherin's common room tonight and tell them all what a big fag Harry Potter is and…oh god! I feel sick just thinking about it! What if he's already spreading rumours around the school?

Why don't I know, you ask? Well that's because I'm hiding in a cupboard…yeah…I really _have_ come full circle.

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Oh no, he found me! 

Shit, bollocks, shit, damn and crap! He yanks the door open and I'm staring up at him guiltily from where I'm hiding under a pair of moth-ridden old robes. He…uh…doesn't look very happy.

"Harry, why'd you run away like that?" Draco asks, his mouth set in a frown…kind of cute actually, makes me want to nip at his lips until…uh…Anyway…

"Erm…I was feeling agoraphobic?" I reply. Oh god, I'm making _myself_ cringe. What a bloody stupid thing to say!

"Agora- what? Get out of that cupboard this instant and pay attention to me!" He demands with a stamp of his foot…wait, what? Did he just say what…? Huh?! "I mean it Harry! You're my mate and you aren't spending enough time worshipping me!"

What. The. Fuck.

I did NOT sign up for this! Draco hisses in annoyance and swiftly grabs me by my forearms and hauls me out of the cupboard. He's pushing at me angrily, his eyes blazing red until he has me pinned against the wall beside the cupboard. We're out near the Great Hall and people who pass by are probably just thinking, same old same. The bastards! They couldn't stop to help, now could they? No, not for me! Not for Harry Sodding Potter, saviour of the sodding universe!

I try to escape from Draco's grip, but he's being surprisingly resistant and he's still not said anything yet, he's just glaring at me and…did he just sniff me?

Oh my, his smell…it's everywhere, he's too close and I can see a light dusting of freckles on his nose…it's funny. I've never noticed that before. But his eyes are burning me. They're not red they're kind of like they were last night, all deep and with a slight blue tint to them and he's so close. Too close! I can feel his breath fan out over my cheeks and he's breathing rather frantically as if he's too angry, too upset to regulate himself.

"How can you think that?!" he screams and it's…ow…that when right to my ears! Jesus what a voice. Maybe he's really part banshee and just putting me on about the whole Veela thing. His hands are twisted painfully in my robes and he's actually managed to push me up the wall so just my toes are touching the floor.

Really I should be more scared than I am. I mean, he's never been this strong! But I bet he could snap me in half if I piss him off enough.

"Don't you get it?!" he screeches. "You're mine! You said you'd be mine!" Suddenly he drops me back to my feet and his hand clutches at his own chest. His expression is different, he looks broken, scared. He's not angry anymore and that makes me more frightened than his incredible strength. Quietly and in an urgent tone he continues. I can hear the suggestion of anger still buried in that voice, as if he's trying to be firm, but it comes out like a desperate, lost plea. "Don't reject me, please don't reject me, oh Harry! Please, I'll die!" Shit! He's sobbing. He's buried his face in my shirt front and I can feel each sob wrack his chest and even worse I can feel the misery, the pain and the panic all throbbing along that single thread.

Oh, and great, just what I need! An audience! An audience with a camera-wielding Gryffindor happily taking some photos no doubt for posterity and Draco is _of course_ oblivious to anyone but himself and his own feelings. Fuck. It hurts.

Everything he's feeling…he's in so much pain and…he's so afraid and…under it all…loneliness. Crushing all-encompassing and soul rotting – a feeling I'm uncomfortably familiar with. Fuck.

I let my arms encircle him and I pull him close. What am I supposed to do? He…he'll die without me…and…It's really hard to believe, but I don't want him to die. I…I think I really do love him, even if it is just some stupid Veela mind-trick. He sags in my arms and I nearly collapse under his weight, suddenly having to support us both.

Shit. He's passed out. I've got to get him to the hospital wing! Every part of me feels weak, it's like I've suddenly gotten a fever and I feel all cold and clammy and I'm shaking like a leaf, but I've got to get him to the infirmary before _I _pass out too. That'd be great!

I've always known that Malfoy was an annoying prat. But now he's _my_annoying prat.

I don't know how long I can last…the infirmary is another staircase, two hallways and a trick door away and I'm barely able to see each step in front of me. And the corridors and stairs seem endless and it's not until I'm standing outside the door what feels like four hours later that I start to feel like it's ok for me to collapse, but I've got to get inside first. Woooh, head spin _bad_.

"Ma-Madam Pomfr…" that's all that I can manage and it's barely more than a whisper, but I can see her, alerted by the doors to her hospital wing being opened. I can just make her out in the fading darkness…oh god, I don't think I can hold on any longer…Ah, there we go….

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Mm…soft and warm…I feel…safe, but I don't feel well and I feel even worse as I wake up more. My head's killing me and my stomach is gnawing at me in a way that's _like_ being starved but not quite right. It hurts to breath, too. But I feel safe, and I know I'm going to get better and there's something else that I can't place…Oh. 

Draco…he's- he's in the next bed, which has actually been brought flush against my own…Oh yeah, Hospital wing. I almost forgot. I look down at my hand and it's entangled with his.

He's breathing steadily but his face is caught in a frown and occasionally he whimpers as if he's being stabbed by pain. He is…I can feel it. I'm not sick, that's not my illness…it's his.

He looks so fragile, like he'll break…I scoot over on the beds, now I'm more on his than my own, instinctively he rolls over and curls into me. I'm not crying! I'm not.

God I'm so tired. Life would have been so much easier if this had never happened. I was supposed to go up against Voldemort and most likely die and that would have been it. I'm not an idiot, despite what some people think, I'm aware my chances of survival against him are weak and I don't know why people expect _me_ to do it. I'm not even old enough to vote and they expect me to take on this Tyrant that they're too bloody scared to oppose! It's so stupid. If they only realised that he's _just one man_ they wouldn't hesitate in joining up and taking him out…but…oh hell, adults must be stupid.

I've never seriously thought about life after Hogwarts, knowing that really, I wouldn't have one but I know what I would have wanted and_this_ is certainly not it. If for a moment we could pretend that this was a world without Voldemort, Death Eaters etc, what would I want to do when I grow up?

I guess I could play Quidditch…maybe become an Auror. I'd marry a nice witch and have two…no three kids and I'd still be friends with Ron and Hermione and we'd be forever in each other's lives. I might go travelling, visit Charlie in Bulgaria or just float from country to country and see the rest of the world.

I could be any numerous things, visit many different places and do a whole realm of interesting things…but never in my wildest fantasies would I have ever imagined Malfoy being part of it. But…in the same breath…I don't think I could ever have imagined my life without him being there. The one steady thing in my life would be him, forever taunting me, challenging me, and interfering with my life.

Oh god, I don't think I could live knowing that he wasn't!

Ha, it's kind of funny how, er, integrated he is in my life. He's like the paper boy who always manages to the throw the morning news in the bird bath every single day, or the letter that's for your neighbour that is _always_ delivered to your post box. He's like a freezing cold day when your gas decides to stop working. If they didn't happen, you'd wonder…you'd notice that something was missing. Like a bent spoon which is always the only one left clean and is useless for anything but you keep it anyway.

He'd kill me if he could read my mind, probably. Being compared to a spoon… You know…this is _not _how I envisioned my life turning out.

But…maybe things will turn out. I didn't want this (ok, maybe a part of me does, but it's a very small part that I've taken to squashing down) and all I can bring him is death, either now or when Voldemort strikes me down. I'm lucky that way. Whoever becomes close to me is soon at risk of their life; either as prey, out of spite, or in his case, directly resultant of my death.

Maybe I can pretend for a while that I'm just a normal teenager and enjoy my life for a change. Just have fun and hang all the rest!

I stroke a hand through his hair, god it's so silky and I can't stop myself. He mutters softly in his slip and his frown slowly fades from his face. He looks more innocent, really like an angel and I feel filthy in his presence.

It's stupid, I don't want him to die because of me, but I can't push him away, but I can't pretend that I'm happy about this. I don't want anymore people dying because of me! Least of all him!

Wait…did I just say that?

Oh god. I_am_ an idiot! Realisation has finally struck and I think I might just like to pass out again right now. I'm in love with Draco Malfoy! Just shoot me now!

* * *

**HPDM**

* * *

Madam Pomfrey came by a few hours ago, as did Dumbledore but I was half asleep and didn't feel like listening to whatever they were about to say so I just wandlessly pulled the curtain around our beds shut, which cut off the sight – and sound – of them all. I don't think Madam Pomfrey was very impressed, but once they'd managed to wrench the curtains open again, Dumbledore was there and he looked very pleased about it. 

I don't understand his jubilance; it's just a bloody curtain, not that difficult to move. Anyone would have thought I'd done something special, but I do it all the time in the dorm and the others don't even notice!

Anyway, they decided that I didn't feel bad enough already about it and Pomfrey went on and on about the responsibilities of being a Veela's mate. And Dumbledore unloaded a pile of books on me about the subject after he'd calmed down the mediwitch and let her know that until the night before_ I _didn't know. She kind of shut up after that and walked away still muttering to herself. Dumbledore kept going on about how fortuitous it was that I'd landed myself a Veela, since apparently our magical capabilities have basically combined in strength and doubled, which is kind of a scary thought. He started to say something about Voldemort at that point, but I feigned tiredness and as politely as I could, told him to bugger off.

Draco still hasn't woken up, but he's not feeling as sick as he was. Madam Pomfrey says he's likely to wake tomorrow around lunch time and until that time, I'm not allowed to leave him, not that I would anyway – but I didn't tell her that.

Every time I nap (which has been surprisingly frequent) I keep having these weird dreams…they're not really dreams, actually, I think they're memories. _His_ memories. And occasionally it's just a dream with me and him and we're just talking civilly, almost lovingly and there's such a feeling of camaraderie, not quite what I have with Ron, something a little more…understated, but at the same time more significant. And I don't want to give that up. We've not really had that yet, between us, but we could and I want it.

It's really hard to admit that. I don't like having to depend on others and I'm not used to having to admit to needing them, but I do.

I've been reading all these Veela books and it looks as though I'm actually immune to his abilities…well, sort of. I think it's a good thing. It means that the person that means the most to him is the one who isn't impressed by his tricks, which I guess will be a good humbling experience for him, since I'll be staying with him because I want to, rather than because I've been tricked into it. The books really aren't that informative; it's mainly for the Veela, not the mate, so I don't really know all that much about it all. Like…what about sex? Oh _shit!_ Where's that chapter on reproduction gone?

Oh my god! I'm safe! Ok, I'm just gonna take a breather for a second…

Ok. I had a mini panic attack there. I suddenly got to wondering if it were possible for either of us to, you know, um, bear children, seeing as Malfoy isn't exactly human and all. I guess Mother Nature is on my side for once and realised in advance that having a half-Draco-half-Harry running around would be a bad idea.

Draco stirs beside me and his face screws up. He's curled against me, blocking the harsh light from his eyes, but he's waking. He freezes at my side, his hands still against me before they begins a frantic trail up my chest, as if testing that I'm real. Yeah, Draco, I'm really here.

He pulls away and blinks at me sleepily, staring in confusion at me. God he's so cute, I can't help myself, I have to kiss him! I lower myself down slightly and kiss him on his delicate nose, I can hear his breath hitch and as I draw back his hand follows me and curls in my own.

"Hey," he murmurs sleepily, rubbing his eyes with the other arm.

"Hey," I respond. No one ever said I was a good conversationalist.

"How long have I been here?" Draco asks, with a short yawn.

"Not long, about a day. Pomfrey didn't think you'd be awake until tomorrow."

"Huh…um…how long have you been here?" he asks hesitantly.

"Same amount of time, but I woke up earlier this morning."

"You mean you-"

"Yeah, I passed out too."

"Huh…"

"How'd we get here, then?"

"Full of questions, aren't we? I carried you up…then I passed out."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

And now's when we can expect the awkward silence…yep, here it is. I'm looking anywhere but at Draco and he's fixedly staring at my face. It's funny how I've _always_ known when he's been staring at me.

"_Why_ are you here?" Draco suddenly asks, a confused whine to his tone.

"Well, why wouldn't I be?"

"But," he draws in a shuddering breath, and oh shit, I think he's going to start crying again. His eyes are tearing up. "But you don't want me!" He wails.

Great…

I can't contain the sigh that breathes through my lips. I run a hand through his hair and stop to caress the side of his neck. I can feel him shiver under my touch and all I want to do is just curl up with him…what the hell, there's no one here to stop me.

I lower myself down, my head on his pillow, our noses are mere centimetres apart and I can clearly see the depths of his stormy grey eyes and all the emotion, the anguish and uncertainty that I can feel along that thread that still connects us. His eyes are glassy and a single tear escapes, dampening the pillow.

I don't think I can look at him anymore…I feel ashamed, selfish, stupid for ever thinking that this was just a simple joke to him. This can't be pleasant or enjoyable for him either…though the other night was pretty fantastic…

"It's not true," I manage finally and first he's confused, then realisation seems to dawn and a painful kind of hope has him trembling and pulling closer to me. He tucks his head against my chest and tangles our feet together.

I never would have pictured Malfoy or all people as a snuggler.

I wrap my around his waist and for a moment just enjoy the feeling of heat, of another person this close to me…it's such an unfamiliar feeling, but I think I really like it.

"I…I panicked…"I'm a bit hesitant to say the next bit because I don't know if it's words or what that will set him off, but it's not like I'm all that clever with words anyway, so I can only do my best…and I can only tell him the truth.

"I…this is not how I ever thought life would turn out for me…" he gives a short bark of laughter and I can tell that it's one of agreement. "And you're supposed to be my enemy. Everything that I knew about you…it was all the bad stuff. You've never, well, not until now, shown me who _you_ are and what's probably the most frightening part of it all is that it really doesn't matter.

"It's not true…I do want you, I want to be with you, I want to have a life that isn't all about battles and dark wizards and fear. And…if it's with you…I think that would be, well, pretty awesome.

"Before…I…it's not like I was really given a choice and I just, didn't know how to cope, it was all too strange. But…but if you'll have me…"

"It's not exactly a tiptoe through the tulips for me either, Potter, it's not like I would have particularly chosen you had I been given the option…And you know, rejection isn't just a series of words, it's an emotional thing more than anything else," he berates me softly. The effect is kind of ruined as he nuzzles at my chest and sighs contentedly.

He raises his head and looks me directly in the eye, his expression serious. "Don't do it again," he says sternly.

I can't help the laughter that bubbles up and the look of indignation that Draco tosses me is priceless. Before he can continue the lecture I close the gap between us and…oh god, I'll never get tired of his lips…

So…tasty.

But of course, my day wouldn't be complete without a visit from my comrades-in-arms, Hermione and Ron and I know they're here because Hermione is squealing in girlish joy (god knows why) and I can hear Ron spluttering and something hitting the floor and spilling out across it. Draco grabs a hold of me possessively and moves to straddle my lap. He's hissing menacingly over his shoulder at my friends…great, _just_ what I need! I look over at Ron…it's the funniest thing…he's got a nosebleed. Right…

"Oh Harry this is wonderful! And Malfoy! I mean Draco! Oh I'm so happy for you both. You just _wait_ til I tell Seamus and Dean!" Hermione grabs Ron, who puts up no resistance, but doesn't take his eyes off us as she drags him from the hospital ward. After a long, pregnant pause I turn my gaze back to Draco.

"So…erm…do you wanna go back to our rooms before they bring all of the sixth year Gryffindors back with them?"

Draco's looking a bit hungry, so I'm going to assume the answer to that is yes. Yep, he's practically towing me out of the ward and down a well-hidden passageway that eventually leads up back to the Lesser Tower.

The rooms are dark, cloistered, and safe. I quickly urge a fire into existence in the fireplace, slowly filling the room with warmth. Draco quirks an eyebrow at my little display of wandless magic and I just shrug. You know, I bet other people could do it more if they just tried. Maybe I should thank the Dursley's what with them always confiscating my things every summer.

That hungry look is back in Draco's eyes again and only accentuated by the muted lighting from the fireplace. He practically pounces on me…and…can't think to form…sentences….

WOAH! He just threw me on the bed and my shirt's gone. _When did THAT happen?!_ He's got me firmly pinned to the mattress, my hands caught in a grip like steel above my head, his eyes are glowing eerily and his hair's stirring in an imaginary wind. I should be scared…I'm not…actually I'm quite a bit turned on. I try to arch up and capture his mouth, but he uses his other hand to keep me pinned to the bed.

"Be mine," he silently commands and I'm nodding frantically before I've even had the time to process the request. At last he descends and he kisses me, tasting, exploring every part of my mouth he can and it's wonderful and amazing and I'm left breathless. He pulls away shortly but only to leave a trail of licks, nips and sloppy kisses along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone and WOAH! I didn't know that my nipples were so sensitive! Ngh! He's _nibbling_ on me! Oh, god, I, oh god…Oh, Merlin's Beard!

He's going lower and I can feel his tongue leaving a path down the centre of my chest, it feels so weird, the trail of saliva dries quickly in the heat from the fire and the skin is tingling along it. A tongue dips into my navel and, oh fuck! Oh, if last night was good then right now is bloody fantastic!

I'm divested of my jeans before it even comes to my attention and Draco is quite noticeably bare also. He's so beautiful and his skin is so soft and it's glowing softly, I can't help but reach out and run my hands along his sides. Every part of him is stunning, I feel so awkward and ugly lying here underneath him, but…he's looking at me with such hunger and his desire is thrumming so strongly down that thread that it's like knowing both our pleasure at once and it's maddening.

"What do you want to do to me, Harry?" he purrs. It's the last straw. With a quick twist I reverse our positions and lower myself against him, pinning him. He's not going anywhere, but it doesn't look as though he minds. He rocks his hips upward and our naked erections rub against each other and…fuck…I can't focus, can't think, only just can feel. There's nothing else left but sensation.

"L-lube?" I manage to get out even as my hips crash down to rub harshly against his. He hisses and tilts his head back, his hand running down my back leaving red welts from his nails. With his other hand he's blindly searching for something in the top draw of his dresser. Sod it, he's taking too long! Oh, fuck, SEAMUS I love you, you dirty Irishman! He taught me this wonderful little spell a few weeks ago…next time I see him, I'm going to hug that little lecher!

In the palm of my right hand a slick substance begins to form as I quietly chant the words of the spell under my breath and I sit up. Draco is looking at me with curious eyes, which widen comically when I begin to coat my fingers. There's an element of fear behind it all. Looks like my little sex-god is actually just as much a virgin as I am! Hehe, he's so not going to live that down! Though his next reaction is one I'll never forget. He'd spread his legs wider for me, baring himself to me and waited nervously. I reached down with my other hand, carefully taking hold of his erection in my slicked hand and his eyes flutter shut as I start pumping with uneven strokes; some slow, some fast, keeping the pace erratic. With my other hand I slowly reached around and slid a finger into my…erm…self…and fuck…

Like any curious teenage boy who happens to have a gay couple living with them, I'd tried this before and while I didn't find the sensation painful, the whole experience couldn't even compare to what it felt like to do it for an audience.

Draco's jaw drops as he finally rouses enough to watch me. And he starts looking worried, like he should be the one…or, I don't know, I don't care. I want this. I want him and this is how I want it, how I need it.

It's difficult to do it yourself and that's a fact, plus I was getting a little embarrassed. I crawl up on my hands and knees and position myself on Draco's lap, our erections rubbing together, sticky and coated in pre-cum.

All uncertainty is gone in his eyes and oh god, if I don't do this now I'm just going to come just from looking at him. His eyes devour me and thought becomes a difficult task to perform.

I lift myself up slightly and use my hand to position Draco against my hole, massaging the length gently. When I can feel the tip of his length breaching me I slowly sink down, my hand moves to his chest, the other beside his head, propping me up. Fuck! This is nothing like fingers! He's not huge, but you couldn't convince my ass of that! It's stinging and it's uncomfortable and god, oh so right!

He's whimpering underneath me.

"Let me move, Harry!" he whines and I'm flat out refusing him. Hesitantly, I pull myself back up and as painfully slow as before lower myself down, adjusting the angle as I go.

Unexpectedly Draco bucks up into me and I let out a cry. From pain or pleasure, I'm not even sure. Next thing I know I'm on my back again and Draco's leaning over me, looking ferocious and wanton and so fucking hot! He grips my thighs and repositions me and his length brushes up against something inside me that sends a bolt of lightning up my spine. Oh god, oh god, oh god! He's thrusting faster and faster and every other thrust is hitting that spot and I can't see anymore, can't think, and I'm moaning and crying like a fucking whore, but I just don't care anymore!

God, if only this could last forever, if only this would just fucking stop! It's unbearable, and I'm so close. Sweat is running down my back from my pelvis to my shoulders, following the arch of my spine, my hands are clenched painfully in the sheets and that one deep point of contact between us burns and is wonderful and fuck, I didn't know it could be this way!

My legs are clenched around his sides and I feel it. A primal yell rips from his throat as every muscle in his body stiffens before something hot and wonderful spills into me and without having to be touched I'm sent off the edge, my seed exploding forcefully between us, coating our stomaches.

Draco looks at me through dazed eyes before lowering his head and taking my mouth in another kiss, this one soft, tender and possessive. He rests for a long moment, limply on my chest before pushing himself up and pulling out. I whimper at the loss of feeling him in me but he doesn't go very far and curls up at my side, running a lethargic hand over the mess on my abdomen. I catch his wrist and bring his fingers to my mouth, tasting myself as I lick his fingers clean.

He's watching me like I'm the only drop of water in a desert and if I don't stop, he won't either. I pull his hand up and drape it over my shoulder and run my own hand along his ribs and down across his back. He's glowing like a nightlight and his face is softened, a happy smile curling his lips.

"Hey Harry…" he eventually murmurs, a mischievous glint in his dark stormy eyes."

"..mm?"

"Since we're all dirty and all…."

" Yeah…?"

"How about some shower sex?"

Oh holy fuck. What have I let myself get into? Oh, god, I'm going to let him, aren't I? Bloody hell.

He's giggling as he pulls me from the mess of blankets. I can feel his semen seeping from me, and I'm glad that we're going to be showering and all…but fuck. If I'd known he was this randy I would have had dinner first!

Sod it. I'll get a house-elf to bring us something up. Maybe Dobby'll help.

Draco turns on the water til its almost scorching and pulls me under the spray with him. He's already half hard but he's dreaming if he thinks I'm going to let him impale me more than two or three more times tonight…Oh, who am I kidding?

Draco pulls my face down that extra inch between us and kisses me again, I can feel the smile behind it, as well as the erection pressing against me, coaxing mine back to full hardness.

I know I keep saying it, but…I really never did expect anything like this to happen. Maybe there really is something here. Maybe I can have a life and maybe with Draco's help I can have a life after Voldemort.

It may not have been what I expected, but hell…I'd be stupid to let fate stop me from living.

"…Hey Draco…?"

"Mm..?"

"For Always…"


End file.
